Fallon sits in front of me, a ball of fire in his hand. That's right. Fire.
"Give me your hand," he says, holding open a palm without flames. I place my hand in his. "Now, close your eyes."
I do what I am told.
His other hand, the one with flames, is placed on top of mine. It's warm.
I reach out with my magic the way we have been practicing. It coils, touching him before retreating, as if afraid. I do it again and again. Until finally, the usual comfort forms. Fallon's magic becomes less strange and more familiar.
We probably sit like this for half an hour before he finally says, "good. You're no longer retreating."
He moves, his hand with flames lifting from mine and tilting into my palm. As if the fire is liquid, he pours it into my hand.
I twitch, fighting the urge to pull back. My heart pounds so hard that I can hear it rattling my brain. Yet, I hold my position, refusing to run away from the strange sensation.
"You got this," he says. "Just feel it, hold it."
"I can't." I am afraid to get burned, but keep my hand where it is.
Warmth moves into my palm, over my fingers. It burns but doesn't injure.
"Open your eyes," he instructs.
I do what I am told. Fire dances in my palm over my skin. It's both fantastic and terrifying. I yelp, though nothing hurts. I pulled my hand back. The flame falls into Fallon's open palm that waits underneath mine. With a close of his fingers, it goes out.
"You did amazing," he says, a bright smile on his face.
"Right. At this rate, I will never learn any offensive tactics." I can't help but feel annoyed it is still so difficult for me to find comfort in what I am trying to do.
"We have only been at this a couple of days. Give yourself a break. You are doing significantly better than I thought you would."
"Well, that makes me feel great." I stand, sore and tired from all the training. Fallon and I have been working together at the end of each day, after finishing all the other activities Phiona has us do. I feel myself getting stronger magically with nothing much to show for it. The sensations are strengthening within me, the power within becoming more profound. And when the magic of those who are supposed to be my coven brushes up against me, I no longer feel repulsed by it. I don't like it, but I also don't immediately flee from it.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I say to him.
"See ya." He grabs the lighter off the floor, the one he used ignite the fire he controls.
Outside the house, there is a pack of shifters divided into two teams.
"Perfect! Emma, we need one more on our team for volleyball!" Conry runs towards me, his blond hair is pulled back and already wet with sweat from running around outside.
"You sure you want me on your team?" I ask. I am tired from magic training, but I can still muster some energy for a game. Especially if I get to wipe the smirks off half of the wolves' faces.
"Did we not win last time you were with Shelbs and me?" He grins.
My lips split with a full smile. "I guess I could spare time for a game. We placing bets on this one?"
Shelby sighs dramatically. "Don't encourage him, little witch!"
Conry throws an arm over my shoulder, laughing. "I always knew I liked you!"
YOU ARE READING
Sapphire Spells
FantasyThere is a wolf sniffing around the graveyard. Emma will soon learn just how real her demons are on a fateful walk past the gravestones which have become her solace. A wolf is hunting her, and he brings with him the world she has been hiding from...
